It was evening, a beautiful starlight evening.

The tiny stars watched over these Indian people as they slept.

They were tired with the long chase, though they were happy with the thought of the fine deer and buffalo which they had killed.

The Indians slept soundly all of the night. When they awoke the sun was saying a bright “Good morning.”

They arose, stretched themselves and ran to the river for a swim.

The women were already busy getting the skins from the animals.

Some of the women stretched the skins in the sun to dry, while others made baskets.

The Indian people dried meat in the sun and then powdered it. They stored the powdered meat in baskets and jars for the winter.

The men spent nearly every day in hunting and fishing.

Mewanee came from his wigwam looking very unhappy and sad.

Baby brother was very ill.

His mother tried to soothe her baby boy with a low, sweet lullaby, and Mewanee tried to quiet him by a soft chant. But baby brother would not be quieted.

Mother gave him a drink made from wild roots, but this did not seem to help the little fellow.

As the day passed, his fever grew stronger and fiercer.

When the chief came home and saw how sick baby brother was he said, “The medicine man must be sent for. He will cure my son.”

The medicine man was thought to be very wise. The Indian people believed that he could cure all sickness.

They thought that the power to cure was given to the medicine man by the Great Spirit.

So the medicine man was sent for.

While they were waiting, the Indians built a fire and gathered about it.

They sang a mournful song to the Great Spirit. As they sang they made strange gestures with their arms.

They thought that the chief’s son was ill because they had in some way offended the Great Spirit.

They hoped in this way to appease the wrath of the Great Spirit.

Suddenly a queer looking old man rushed into the circle. He made all sorts of strange noises and jumped up and down as he shouted.

This was the medicine man for whom the chief had sent.

He motioned the chief to bring his little son to him.

Then he ordered a jar filled with water to be placed on the fire. Now the medicine man threw some herbs into the jar of water.

He danced and sang as he stirred the mixture with a carved bone which he carried in a skin bag.

This bone was supposed to have a certain charm.

The chief came from the wigwam, carrying baby brother in his linden cradle. As he came near, the medicine man raised his arms above the baby, muttering low noises. Baby brother stopped crying and lay very quiet.

All the other Indians stretched themselves face downward on the ground, praying to the Great Spirit that the chief’s baby might soon be well.

The medicine man gave baby brother a drink of the warm herbs. He used a queerly shaped wooden spoon which was carved with figures of wild animals.

Then bending low over the baby he whispered a soft song. His low tones soon quieted the little boy. The baby’s eyelids drooped. In a moment he had fallen fast asleep.

Mother came out and carried her little boy into the wigwam.

Then the medicine man spoke to the chief. He said that his son would not be well until a sacrifice of a red deer should be made.

This sacrifice would ward off the anger of the Great Spirit.

Fortunately the Indian people had killed a red deer in their last hunt. So the deer was brought toward the medicine man.

First the medicine man said a prayer over the body of the deer.

All joined in with low chants.

Finally the deer was carefully placed upon the fire amid the low murmuring of all present.

Then the medicine man walked slowly away.

Mewanee had been waiting in the wigwam. He was very, very sad.

When his father told him that the medicine man had promised that baby brother would soon be well, he smiled and looked glad again.

Before another sunrise the little fellow was much better, and his mother sang a song of praise to the Great Spirit.